Deep Dark Ocean
by magicalBro
Summary: Exploring an old manor, Jake discovers something he would've never wanted to know. At the same time, John meets an angel and their Dad sleeps with one. Between treason, revelations and painful secrets, what rests in gaps deep is close to waking up...
1. The manor on top the cliff

**Deep Dark Ocean**

**Disclaimer:** all the characters belongs to Andrew Hussie, even if I interpreted Dad Egbert and Bro Strider in my own way -and I hope it's in a good way x)

**Parings:** Dad Egbert x Bro Strider (with loads of fluff between these two), Dirk x Jake and that's all I can reveal to you right now or it won't be interesting

**Author's note:**

I don't know why, but I have a huge thing with mermaids lately so I decided to write this AU. I guess it'll be less fluffy than what I usually write, so don't be surprised if I write sad things x)

I love the universe in which the story takes place, inspired by Bretagne and Normandy (two Northern regions in France which looks like Great Britain somehow, with great seascapes). As mentioned higher in the text, it'll be a mermaid AU, but not the Disney kind. My mermaids are like human who evolved differently from us, thus don't speak our language, don't have our gestures, and basically are really hard to understand. They can't turn into humans with a magic kiss, nor can humans turn into mermaids. Do you see the impossible love coming? xD

PS: English isn't my first language, so there must be mistakes x)

EDIT : I'm sorry for the previous mistakes, I corrected most of them.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 1 – The manor

When he woke up, the sun was already illuminating the early skies, chasing away the stars from their dark veil. The monotonous vibration of the car had made his limbs feel numb. A not so sweet taste was in his mouth, making his teeth sticky and his tongue heavy. He felt as if someone was pushing zillions of needles in his spine, his shoulders pierced by tiny daggers.

A familiar weight pressed on his hip, indicating the presence of his little brother, still asleep. They shared with their father, and basically the whole family, a thick mane of dark and indomitable hair. Only their eyes were different: bright blue ones for John, looking just like the reflection of the sky in the sea while Jake's were as mysterious and adventurous as an unexplored jungle, a gloomy yet bright green, just like his mother's.

Their dad never talked about her. As far as Jake knew, they lived almost four years together before she left for another man, leaving him the boys. When he was younger, he found a picture of her, torn then restuck with duct tape, then torn again apparently. He still had it with him, and his dad never mentioned that he 'lost' it. Jake wondered if he even cared.

This was now history, his dad putting all aside to take care of them. John was only three, and Jake six when he met Mr. Strider. The teenager found him rather cool in the first time, even if he was a little strange. He grew up acknowledging him as his father's best friend, half living with them but not being officially part of the family. The blonde man was almost ten years younger than his father and way more fun than him, like a grown up eternal teenager. He was always sewing things, building stuff, fixing mess, forging junk, adding pieces, and removing gears. A very manual worker, which gave him remarkable muscles, as the young man noticed. And he noticed it too much, lately.

Jake ceased immediately to admire those biceps and looked quickly at the dawn. After twelve hours of plane, they drove almost eight more in the middle of the night. John and he strived on the backseat of the car until Mr. Strider threw them a smuppet. Worst experience of his life

If he was right, they were almost arrived at his aunt's house. Jake has never seen her before, or when he was too young to remember, yet his father always told him they were as alike as two peas in a pod. Seemed that he looked very much like his younger cousin, too. He heard her sister was about the same age at him, which made him anxious. The best scenario would be her liking adventure and guns, just like him, the worst being her liking pastry just like his father. Jake didn't hope too much for the first option, he never met such a girl.

John squeezed his waist in his sleep, murmuring inaudible things. His brother affectionately passed his hand in his hair, removing his glasses so he won't break it unintentionally.

A new day began.

* * *

Jake never saw the sea before.

They always lived in hot places, like Texas or Arizona where the rain is indecisive and the storms made of sand. Suddenly, the cerulean heavens became steel gray as melted metal, pouring water like innumerable tear drops. Above all, or more precisely under it all, there was the deep dark Ocean. What could hide those infinite reversed skies? What could be living under the tyranny of those gigantic waves? What monsters could be resting in its abysses?

Jake didn't know, but it intrigued him. Exploring the obsidian shore would for sure be the greatest adventure of his life! What if he met a beached whale? John was as much excited as him, unable to stay sit in the car. Their dad smiled and stopped at the first beach they found. They jumped out of the car like two puppies, rolling immediately in the sand before throwing it at each other's. The weather was not kind enough to allow them to swim, but Jake took off his shoes and socks, raising his pants on his thighs to make a pair of shorts. He quickly ran toward the rocks, hoping to find some crabs or something like that. John was just behind him, his long hoodie floating in the air like a banner.

Even if the wind was cold on his skin, Jake still put his feet in the water, which was freezing as you could imagine. John and him tasted it, then found it was really salty. Really. They tasted loads of things, like seaweeds, and found nothing was edible here.

A few meters away, Mr. Strider and their father were observing them absent-mindedly.

"Looks like they have fun" Said Mr. Strider, a soft smile on his lips.

"Join them if you want."

"I'd rather stay with you, honey." He replied, taking the man's hand in his own behind his back.

Jack gave him a warning look, fighting weakly his demonstrations of affection. Mr. Strider loved those eyes, grayer than the current sky with tiny bits of blue hiding in it.

"Not in front of the kids, Dean." He sighed, pulling his hand away.

"You'll have to tell them one day."

"I know. But... later."

Seeing the pained look in his eyes, Mr. Strider didn't push it further. It was in times like that he just wanted to hug him, kiss him, protect him from the world.

They met at his working place, ten years ago. Jake was lost then, and Dean found him in the studios, looking for his dad. He was an unknown writer then, trying to make himself a name, completely obvious of the fact that Jake's dad was well-known actor. They wandered between the empty film sets, passing through plastic forests and lunar valleys. Jake looked at him with shiny eyes, pure admiration filling his emerald irises.

But then, they found Mr. Egbert. A thirty-years-old man, coming right from the 30's with his perfect black hair and his marble complexion. In his tuxedo, a fedora nonchalantly put on his head, his silver eyes widen in surprise, he looked like a surprised James Bond. Dean fell immediately for him. Their first meetings were only professional, Dean's talents being finally noticed by some big producer. One day, however, they met in the real life. They went to a fancy restaurant, ate a pizza, and the word could've been made of nonexistent people who can only be acknowledged as a vague shape of darkness, Dean would've not cared at all. He had found the love of his life.

Their respective works didn't ceased to tear them apart, reunite them, and separate them again. The Strider's and Egbert's name was on everyone's lips, the press running after to them like feral dogs after a bone. Even if they were together, they couldn't be because of them. Thus, one day, Jack bought some plane tickets, took his car, his most loved ones and just left. Currently they were on vacations. Sort of.

Dean wondered if they would ever come back to Hollywood. Part of him missed his work, but a bigger part was in love since ten years.

* * *

Jake's aunt's house was not a house. It was a manor. A castle. The boys' dream house.

On the top of a cliff, dangerously close to the fatal fall, yet dominating the entire shore. Of course, they had big houses before, being the children of Jack Egbert. Even pretty houses, very classy. But never like that. It looked somehow like a cathedral, like a boat, like a castle. Jake fell in love with it instantly. A pretty woman waited for them at the porch.

Jake recognized his aunt at the first sight, though he had never met her before. She had the same eyes, the same face, even the same smile as their father's. Next to her stood a joyful girl with long dark hair. She has green eyes behind her glasses, too, but clearer than his own. A little in retreat was another girl, about his age he thought. She looked shy.

"Jack!" Greeted his aunt, hugging tight his little brother. Then she looked at M. Strider with a wide smile. "Who might that be?"

"He's. Hum. One of my coworkers." Answered Jake's father, ill at ease.

"His best friend to say the truth. You can call me Dean." He laughed, taking Mrs. Egbert's hand to kiss it like a gentleman. "You never told me your sister was that beautiful, Egbert."

"Why, thank you!" Giggled Mrs. Egbert. "I'm Joan, by the way. This is Jade and Jane, come here girls. I present you yours cousins, Jake and John. Why don't you go explore the mansion while we're talking between adults?"

As soon as the kids left, Joan guided her guests in the living-room. She always had had good taste when it came to decoration, as her brother noticed. The furniture was simple, yet classy, the colors well-matched. Jack felt anxious, but as far as he knew, Dean was pretty relaxed. But, Lord knows what he really thinks behind those shades. The first time he saw his eyes, it was an accident. A projector had almost fallen on him, and if Jack hasn't been here he might've been dead now. He had pulled the young man in his arms, they tumbled and he lost his shades. Then he looked into Jack's eyes, panting, a very light blush coloring his cheeks. His pupil seemed to be made of pure gold, and maybe they shined in the darkness, maybe had he imagined it.

Joan made them some tea; a tasteful Earl Grey Jack bought her for her last birthday. Dean politely declined, but enjoyed at least a glass of apple juice. They silently sat in the comfortable couch, Joan acting relaxed and sympathetic, but her brother knew that she knew. They could've even been separated at birth and never have met before, she would've always known. Though he didn't believe in telepathy or paranormal things in general, he believed her when she told him she had visions. Moreover, she has never been wrong.

"So..." She began. "You're together, right?"

"Please, don't tell the children." Jack said. "I... I don't believe they're ready."

Dean observed the siblings silently, trying to spot the differences between them. They had the same old-fashioned beauty, that little anachronistic something that made them extremely classy. Like James Bond and his female replica.

Jack took his hand, pulling him out his daydream.

"I'm aware he's ten years younger than me. I know that. But he's the one."

Dean felt his heart miss a beat. Jack wasn't very demonstrative with his feelings, and hearing say something like that was as unusual as it was touching.

"I didn't say he isn't, I just don't want you to be as heartbroken as when Emily left." She said softly.

"Don't talk about her." He said his tone suddenly low, threatening. Dean squeezed him hand, full of concern.

"Don't talk about her..." He whispered. And Dean knew that it still hurt him, twelve years after. And it hurt him, too.

* * *

"... This is Jade's room, and mine's the blue door at the end of the corridor." Finished Jane. "Your room will be the white door I guess, if Mom doesn't put you in the attic."

"Can we visit it? I love old attics, they're full of treasures!" Asked impatiently Jake.

"Without me, if you don't mind, I hate spiders." Answered Jane quickly before she left in her room. Her cousin wondered why she was so tense around him, but soon he followed Jade in the attic and forgot her. The colorful teenager immediately got along with John. They were chatting about some films they had seen, ignoring the marvels Jake discovered. They even left him alone, not noticing that he had stopped following them.

The attic was not the filthy and dusty place Jake expected, but what he found was even better. It looked like an ancient laboratory, the type of place belonging to a strange uncle fond of insects or something like that. Everything was ordered, perfectly tidied up, sorted out, labeled. There were dead animals waiting in their jars, exotic butterflies and beetles pinned on the walls, tons of worn, leather-jacketed books with Latin names, and above all, a gigantic wooden desk.

Jake could tell it served well by the couple of scratches he could see, accompanied with what looked like tea drops on the left side. A left-handed man, he guessed.

An old-fashioned copper lamp who could've been taken from the Titanic -and it was, as Jake could read- was the only object left on the desk. The teenagers thought about listening to his good manners and leave the drawers closed. But soon the curiosity overwhelmed him and he opened the first one.

Inside were a tea pot, some empty cookie box, loads of handwritten notes in a language Jake didn't understood, and photography. Sadly, there was a white round over the man's face, and the picture was in black and white so it wasn't very interesting. At the back of the picture was written something, but Jake could only read 'Doc', the rest being covered by a scratch.

The next drawer was full of notes again, with some pinned insects and a lighter. An ouroburos was elegantly carved on it. The young man put it in his pocket to ask his aunt later what it meant. He was about to leave when something shiny caught his eye. From where he was, he guessed only the man sitting at the desk could've seen it. His heart beat faster.

The lamp reflected something, but he couldn't see from where it came. As he approached, he found out that the ray of light came from the ceiling, more precisely from the chandelier. He got up and climbed on the desk, trying to see what was doing it. The chandelier was also made of copper, but he soon found that the light only came from a hole in the roof. Disappointed, he was about to come down when he saw the button. A little, red button hidden in the chandelier.

He pushed it, of course.

There was a rumbling noise, the floor trembled a little, and then one of the bookshelf moved. It showed dark stairs, full of spider webs. Not reassured, yet more excited than ever, Jake approached it slowly. A salty breeze caressed his face, the stairs leading for sure to a natural cave or even to a secret beach. Before he entered, Jake took the handguns that were hanging on the wall, checked if they were full, and put them in their holster. Few years ago, one of the prop assistants taught him how to shoot, and later his dad insisted for him to know it, in case of.

Then, he began his descent.

* * *

See you at the next chapter! Please, review ;D


	2. The storm

**Disclaimer:** Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie

**Parings:** DadBro, DirkJake

**Author's note**: This is the chapter where you understand why it's T-rated ;D

Thanks to those who follows me, and those who commented, it makes me very glad to see that you like my story.

For that chapter I would recommend to listen to those songs:

Underwater – Mika

The Islander – Nightwish

Skyfall - Adele

Aquarium – Camille Saint-Saëns

Mistral Gagnant – Renaud

El tango de Roxanne – from Moulin Rouge (for that scene, huhu, you'll know which one I'm talking about)

EDIT : this is the corrected version

* * *

**Chapter 2 – Underwater**

Lit only by the weak halo of the flame, Jake progressed slowly in the darkness. The floor was irregular under his feet, made of tiny blocks of stone like a medieval road. The walls, however, were red under the dust and webs, soft-looking as if made of velvet. Sometimes he could see couples of holes in the walls, allowing him to see what were doing the inhabitants of the manor. In spite of the growing feeling of guilt in his chest, the teenager began to spy his family, almost unintentionally.

His aunt was reading in her bedroom, a fire burning in the hearth. Jade led John to the library where they were laughing at some comics he couldn't see.

Then he heard a weird noise, like creaking and loud breathes, moist sounds. His cheeks reddened, though he didn't know what was going on. Part of him knew, but he couldn't make the connection yet. The voices were low, hoarse, reminding him of the growl of a beast. Fear ran in his veins as he imagined some monster waiting for him at the end of the corridor. However, he took his courage in both hands and made a step forward. As he approached, the sound became louder and faster. He heard a laugh or something sounding like that, whispered words, harsh breathes. The sounds came from his left, he realized.

As he lit the wall, he saw a small hole in it. His whole conscience told him to step back, not to look in it or he'll regret it. But Jake was a teenager; an adventurous one who shuts is instincts to satisfy his curiosity. Cleaning the wall, he pressed his face against the fusty velvet. At first, he saw nothing but his father's bare shoulders, his bottom chastely covered by a white blanket.

'Cheese and fucking crackers,' He thought. 'What is he doing?'

Then he saw.

Nails buried in his shoulders' skin, breathing randomly, Mr. Strider was under him. Stark naked. Covered in sweat.

With a sudden move, he arched his back then fell on the mattress, a white material spread on his torso. The lovers snuggled up and took a moment to catch their breathes. Jake realized he was holding his all the time. They kissed. His heart was aching.

It hurt him so bad; he felt tears roll on his cheeks. Mixed feelings were striving in his chest, in his mind.

Jealousy. Pain. Love. Anger. Shame.

He took a step back, trying to understand what was wrong with him. He had to lean on the opposite wall to stay up. Jake let himself slide on the ground, then curled into a ball and released his tears. He knew for a long time he had feelings for Mr. Strider. He just denied it, or acknowledged it as an especially strong admiration. Feeling miserable, he got up and tried to take the stairs to the attic.

His stomach hurt, too. Jake felt so nauseous his head felt dizzy. He took another step back, but there was no floor under his foot.

He began to fall.

* * *

John closed his eyes.

The wind on his cheeks was cold, yet playful. It didn't make him sad like a rainy wind, nor did it hurt his tender skin like a snowy one. This wind was a wind of freedom, coming from the great northern lands. John had read many stories about the north, and even more of them were read to him by his brother. Jake was a true fan of Jack London: he practically learnt to read by himself with The Call of the Wild, which words he knew by heart. As far as John was concerned, he preferred funny stories, or supernatural ones.

It was at times like that, sat on the top of the roof, where nobody could reach him (not even his brother); he thought he was some superhero. He did not wanted to be a hero, though. Just a super ordinary ordinary boy. That didn't even make sense.

Where he was, he could see the unlimitedness of the blue wave. If only he had wings, he could fly over it, sense the cold bite his skin and don't care because he would be an angel. Being an angel would be rather cool, he thought. He pictured himself with huge, sapphire feathers, some cool clothes and his long hoodie, of course. Kanaya, his father's agent's girlfriend made it for him one day. John didn't remember why she did that, but he never went out without it.

Suddenly, a loud thunderstruck made him jump out of his skull. He almost slipped from the roof and quickly brought in to put himself in shelters. Once he closed the windows, a titanic lightning torn the skies apart, leaving his incandescent signature on his eyes. The young boy rubbed his painful eyes until it faded.

The sky was so dark it seemed to attract light, leaving the world in an endless night. Rain poured all over the garden, the shore, the wave. And as if the sky puked light, another lightning tore the horizon, accompanied by a heavy sound which gave him the impression that the clouds over him had just broken to smithereens. Hailstones hit the window as if trying to break it. It seemed to John that the manor house could be blown as the flame of a candle. Fear ran in his veins but curiosity made him stay strong, looking at the angry heavens, wondering how to ease them.

Something appeared out of nowhere a few meters away from the mansion, high in the sky. John thought it was just him at first, but the orange dot got bigger and seemed to move. To fell, more precisely.

The teenager believed it could be a bird knocked off by the weather, but it was too big. Too fast, too. The UFO crashed somewhere in the distant woods, and John promised himself to go see what it was once the storm would be ended.

* * *

When he woke up, the man was alone in his bed.

The heat of his lover was still here on the sheets, fading lazily in the end of the afternoon. He realized it was not the thunder which woke him, but the open window against which rested Jack. He looked peaceful, lost in his thoughts in the slow tempo of the thin rain. His pipe was lit, letting a heavy smoke caress his chest like a fat cat.

He turned to Dean, showing him those eyes of his, their color melting in the stormy sky. The man almost expected a lightning to strike his irises. He expired another cloud of smoke, and then smiled. With slow moves, only dressed of a pair of boxers that wasn't his, he bent over Dean. They looked at each-others silently. Jack was in his early-forties, as showed the tiny wrinkles across his eyes and lips. Still, he looked ageless, his hair staying dark and perfect, not even uncombed after sex. Dean, however, was a total mess. But still, he kept his shades.

He looked at the scratches he made in his lover's shoulders, half sorry half aroused. Jack followed his sight and saw the red lines on his back, then smirked.

"You're gonna pay for this young boy, it hurts like hell." He muttered.

"Punish me daddy," Played Dean, giving him a cocky look. "I've been naughty."

A greedy growl came from Jack's throat, ready for another round.

"Are you calling me old?"

"Maybe... grandpa." Dean whispered against his lips before kissing them lightly, teasing his lover.

Jack did not waited and kissed him deeply, impatiently. His mouth tasted like tobacco and mint. Did he wash his teeth when Dean was asleep? That looked a lot like him. The younger man put an arm around his neck, smiling in the kiss, pulling him in a tight embrace. Jack ran his fingers on his lover's skin, playing with his nipples to make him lose his cool. Dean did not let him win; rolling Jack so he was under him. The man looked surprised, usually the younger let him top.

"Not this time, grandpa. We don't want you to get tired, do we?" Mocked Dean.

"Fuck you kid."

"Well, asked so politely..." He caressed Jack's lips with his fingers. "Will you give me the pleasure of sucking it?"

Jack gave him a look that told 'are you fucking serious, Strider?', but did it however. The strife only began. Jack bit his fingers hard enough to make him swear and pull them out of his mouth. It didn't hurt that much, but it broke Dean's control, allowing his lover to take it. They rolled on the sheets, Dean biting and clawing and purring like a cat. Like a cat he played, letting his master stroke his hair then acted rebellious against him.

It was a game. Their favorite.

Jack could feel Dean's muscular chest moving fast against his. His burning golden eyes were focused on his lover's behind the dark shades. Their breathes melted, smelling of tobacco, mint and chocolate. With a smirk, Jack licked the brown drop at the corner of his lips. He didn't quite remembered how chocolate was involved in the story, but it definitely pleased him.

Dean had managed to tie him to the bedhead with his belt, and was now in total control. Jack thought he looked like a king, crowned in glory, his tanned skin irradiating arousal. With those wild eyes of his, those pointy teeth he had, there was something feline in the way he smiled. Fine muscles moved under his skin, tensed in eagerness. A coarse sound came from the depths of his throat.

"How unrefined, dear." Commented Jack with a grin.

He immediately stopped when the man began kissing his neck. That jerk knew his soft spots... The felling of the hot tongue running playfully on his skin felt like a trail of fire to him. His back arched as a suppressed moan tried to escape his lips.

* * *

"Where are we going?" Complained Jade. "It's raining cats and dogs!"

"I saw something fall in the garden, we have to see what it is!"

"Do we have to do that now?"

"If you want, you can go home; I'll find it by myself." Answered John.

The girl hesitated. Her clothes were all wet anyway, and she wanted to know too.

Suddenly, a scream pierced the air. It looked like a caw, but deeper, more human. The kids shivered. It came from behind the bushes. John gave Jade a frightened look, but she wasn't looking at him. Her viridian irises stared at the orange... thing that emerged from the leaves. It seemed abnormally bright for whatever it was. The silhouette moved again, growling in pain, its black claws digging the ground. Jade took a step back, crushing John's hand in her own. The young man hid behind her, to the devil the courage.

"Are... are you okay?" She finally asked, her voice shaking a little.

"Caaaaw... hel... help..." The thing answered, creeping from the plants before them.

It surprisingly looked like an orange-skinned teenager, endowed of big wings. One of them formed a strange angle, thus John thought it may have been broken when he fell.

* * *

**A/N :** That's all for now ;D Please review, I love chatting with my readers!

Ps: I know the DadBro scene is short, but I never wrote smut before x) I hope it is as sexy as I imagined it, though! I have no idea how it became hatesex (kinda) xD


	3. Feels so good and hurts so bad

Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Andrew Hussie

**Pairing:** DirkJake (you'll have it, thanks for your waiting XD), BroDad, OrangedudeJohn (guess who)

**Author's note:** Here we are! I said mermaids; you'll have mermaids x)

Warning, if you're not comfortable with people being both physically and mentally hurt, just read the summary of the chapter at the end of it.

**Songs I recommend:**

Happy ending – Mika

Time (Inception OST) – Hans Zimmer

EDIT : this is the corrected version, once again I'm sorry but my corrector sucks... The one from my highschool is better but one does not write smut in the highschool library xD

Thanks to Hetahomostuck I realized my computer wrote quotation marks instead of dialog marks, which are the exact opposite in French... I have the same issues with the punctuation :/

* * *

His limbs felt numb, yet piercing him with pain.

The teenager was almost one-hundred percent sure his arm was broken. Hopefully, the bone didn't seem to have cut the skin, which would have been disastrous. As he tried to get up, he found out that his ankle was most likely sprained. Not a single light allowed him to know where he was. He only could hear the lapping of the water next to him. Judging by the echo and the rough stone under his fingers, he lied in a natural cave.

Jake struggled against the boiling tears in his eyes. He was sixteen, and when you are sixteen, you don't cry. Whatever the pain, the despair, the fear... Warm tears rolled silently on his cheeks. Nobody could find him because he closed the secret passage behind him, nobody could hear him scream here, inside the cliff, alone in the darkness. Blood mixed with tears, as he noticed his eyebrow was cut too.

He stopped.

Something moved.

He wasn't sure with his broken glasses, be he saw something. Part of him began to think he was going crazy, hallucinating because of the pain. But then, the thing moved again. Cautiously, he took the guns hanging on his hips. His eyes were adapting themselves to the darkness; he noticed some weak lights on the walls. Jake suddenly realized his eyes weren't adapting: the cave was slowly becoming more and brighter. He thought it was surely a natural bioluminescent effect as he put down his guns: the seaweeds were reacting to his breathe by producing light.

With a sight, the teenager let his back rest against the cold ground. At least, he was going to die in a beautiful place. The thing was still there though. He could see it in the corner of his eyes, something very... orange. Maybe golden. It was underwater, but sometimes he could perceive its colors on the surface. Probably a fish or even an octopus. He closed his eyes.

Even if the thing was assaultive, he was not in shape to fight it. Maybe it was simpler to let it kill him now than dying from starvation or thirst, the water being salty. That did not shut the fear running in his veins, but it was the only idea he had right now.

What if it hurt? What if it poisoned him? What if it was... a mermaid!?

The young man quickly opened his eyes wide, staring at the creature. In the pallid light of the cave, it looked like a blond-haired teenager with radiant, bright golden eyes. Jake forgot the pain. He forgot the cave. He forgot the two-meter long yellowish fish tail, the red fins on his hips, the opal-like tattoos which happened to be gills, the dorsal fin, the pointy canines behind his beauteous smirk. He even forgot his own name.

Jake forgot how to think.

The undine approached him slowly, lustfully. There was something in the way he moved, in the way he looked at Jake that made the teenager feel his body was on fire. He tried to reach him using his arms, but the pain transpierced him like an incandescent blade, pulling a dark veil on his eyes.

He fell.

* * *

The young man woke up in a white room.

Rubbing his eyes, he took a moment to appreciate the softness of the sheets. He felt like he was resting on a cloud, warmed by the sunlight, his feathers caressed by the southern breeze. However, he forced himself to sit when his saviors walked in the bedroom. They looked about his physical age, though he was many decades older than them in reality. He realized with a sight that they probably didn't know the rituals to send him back home, so he was stuck here with a broken wing for a while. The kids looked enough alike to be twins or siblings. That would make the ritual easier if he found a way to teach them how to do it. If he even found a way to know how to do it.

The blue eyed-boy looked at him with a mixture of fear, compassion and curiosity. He liked his eyes, they looked like his home. He kept his cool, not willing to show them he was hurt, fascinated and homesick. The girl put a bold expression on her face before handing him a plate with... cereals. Well, they must have seen the wings and figured out he fed like birds. It almost made him smile.

"Hum. Hey, Mr. Angel... Are you... are you okay?"

"Yeah, thanks. I'm Dave by the way."

The kids looked at each-others with a surprised expression. It's not every day you meet Dave the angel with the Texan accent. Nobody's perfect.

"Do you have somethin' to drink?" He asked, eating a few cereals.

The girl said yes and left the bedroom, leaving the boy behind her. His panicked look was so funny Dave smirked. Humans.

Yet, the brightness hurt his eyes so he closed them. He couldn't see the funny boy anymore, though.

"You're okay Mr. Dave?"

"Call me Dave, dude. My eyes are a lil' sensible if you see what I mean."

"I have sunglasses if you want."

Before he could answer, a cold thing was on his face, darkening his sight. The angel whistled.

"Pretty cool dude, can I keep 'em?"

"Yeah, sure. They look good on you."

That was true. He didn't have a mirror but he knew he looked good. He always did.

"Sooo... you fell from Heaven?"

Dave hesitated to tell him a lie, the boy looking so genuinely naive he could believe him, but he didn't want him to ask questions about God on the other hand.

"Nope. We live in the sky; it's true, but not Heaven. We don't belong to this world, tho."

"You're an alien?"

"Neither. Call me a Sprite if you want, but I can't tell you more about my people. You know, to protect us and everything."

"Hum. Okay."

"You have a name, handsome?" He smirked as the boy's cheeks reddened.

"My name's John. And the girl you saw earlier is Jade, my cousin." He looked like he was going to ask him something, but it obviously made him uncomfortable.

"Can I... Can I touch your wings?"

"Yeah, sure, if you want."

Dave opened his huge wing which almost touched the wall at his right. The John boy looked fascinated as he shyly passed his palm on the orange feathers. They were darker in the inside of the wing, some looking almost brown as on the other side some looked almost white. A warm feeling spread in his chest as the touch intensified, the boy becoming bolder in his exploration. Usually, this kind of intimacy was reserved to young siblings or lovers, and Dave never had the occasion to experience it. He felt a little guilty using the boy like that, but it felt so good...

John stopped too early when Jade returned, leaving Dave with a strange feeling inside of him, something he never experienced. And he wanted more.

* * *

Harder. Faster. Harder. Aah.

It felt so good. Dean loved having sex shamelessly, but he loved making love even more. Especially when he topped. Jack and he knew each-others for too long to have determined roles, yet Jack was particularly aggressive in bed so he usually wins their wrestles. But not this time.

Tied to the behead, panting and completely wasted, Jack was already lost in the depths of pleasure. Dean followed him a few seconds later, releasing himself mercilessly into his partner. The other will be angry at him for that later, but honestly, he didn't care. After untying him, he strokes his clenched muscles gently, snuggling against him when Jack pulled him in a tight embrace. They kissed, gently this time. It was sloppy, lazy, as they were both tired by their harsh riding session. Dean felt his eyelids become heavy and he fell asleep.

Jack however, lied on the mattress, watching the ceiling absent-mindlessly. Why did he have to remember it, now? Emily fell asleep in his arms too... Yes, she was also blonde and had magnificent eyes. But she was nothing like Dean was. She broke his heart without a single look back, she left and now it was over. Yet, ten years after, it still hurt. It hurt because he couldn't love Dean as much as he wanted, it hurt because he understood. They talked about it, only one time, and he said it was fine. It wasn't. He should have cried, he should have thrown things at him, he should have been angry. He just smiled sadly -and oh god it hurt even more- and said it was okay as long as they were together. Jack didn't deserve him.

* * *

"Jace!"

That wasn't his name... Why did they keep using it? Maybe had they a speech defect?

"Jace, wake up!"

Can't they just keep quiet? He wanted to sleep so bad...

"Jace."

Something wet was pressed against his lips. It felt gross, cold yet soft. Was he... kissed? That would've been unexpected.

Jake opened his eyes.

He was still in the cave, but he oddly didn't feel the pain of his broken arm. It was certainly thanks to the splint the merman made him. The teenager observed him, not under his charm anymore because of the pointy shades he had put on his face.

He couldn't help but thinking it was kind of... fishy. No pun intended.

"Jace."

"My name is Jake."

The merman looked confused, but he couldn't really tell because of his sunglasses. There was something in the way he talked that made Jake think English wasn't his born language. Human tongues were maybe not even known by him in the first place. So, this « Jace » must have taught him, he deducted.

The undine dived underwater, reappeared at the other side of the pond, grabbed something and came back to Jake, managing to keep the object dry. In his hand was a photography. Jake was amazed to see how much the man in the picture looked like him. He even thought he could be him, but that was impossible: the picture was in black and white, and the man was in his mid-forties. He wore a safari jacket and had a thin mustache, yet that was the only difference between him and Jake. At the back was written « Jace Harley – 1906, the Nil Valley ». Harley... but that was his grandfather's name!

"Sorry old chap, but it's not me. It's my grandpa here."

"Gran...pa?"

"The father of my dad," He tried to explain. "You understand?"

"No. Who you."

Even with the shades, Jake could tell he was angry. He didn't know what kind of relationship they had, but he imagined. How to tell him he was dead by the time...?

"Blood," He began awkwardly, pointing is heart. "The same as Jace."

"...Lover?"

"No, not at all! I'm his... hum. His son."

The merman raised a brow and went grabbing a whole album. He quickly turned the pages, and then showed him a picture of an infant with a description written in an elegant writing: "Jack, 2 years old, Paris."

"You?" Asked the merman.

Jake pointed himself. "Me." Then the photography. "His son."

The other seemed to understand this time. He frowned and came back to Jace's picture.

"Where?"

Jake didn't answer, avoiding his gaze. It was enough though; the merman looked like he has been punched in the guts. The teenager raised his valid hand and put it on his shoulder to show him his compassion. A wave of pain jolted him, tearing his heart in pieces, reminding him the scene he witnessed earlier. He didn't know how, but their feelings seemed to melt together anger, pain, suffering, shame, jealousy, and too much love than they could hold. That love was like a poison, like a sin, it felt so good and hurt so badly, a sweet death for a sour life.

Burning tears slid on his cheeks.

* * *

_Summary:_

_Jake finally meets the merman, who had a special relationship with his grandpa as he finds out. Jake's arm is broken and his ankle is sprained. It seems that the merpeople can transmit their feelings by the touch._

_Davesprite wakes up in a room, in the manor; he talks a little with John. His people are called Sprites and lives in the sky, but he does not want to tell much about them._

_Jack and Dean have sex, then Dean falls asleep and Jack remembers his wife._

**Author's notes 2:** hope you liked this chapter :D Please, don't hesitate to review it! I don't know why there's so much pain in this chapter, but the next one should be a little less bloody. Don't worry though, there will be love again xD


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